JOB MILLER'S GHOST.

THE BULING PASSION STRONG IN DEATH.

The groom of the late Duke of Queensbury, who won the famous match with the celebrated "Eleanour," was an especial favourite with his grace. Hearing, when at a great distance from the spot, that his faithful servant was on the point of death, and had expressed an earnest desire to speak a few words with his master before he departed for ever, the Duke proceeded, post haste, to the place where he lay. On being shewn into the room, the great man approached the bed, and, gently drawing the curtains, looked silently upon the countenance now glazing under the first touch of death. The patient turned with difficulty round, and his pale face brightened for a moment, as he caught his master's eye. "Ah! my Lord," sobbed forth the dying man, "ah! my Lord-you remember El-e-a-nor-"To be sure, John," assented the Duke. "Ah!" continued the groom,—“ warn't she a rum 'un!-and died.

INCONVENIENT HASTE.

A costermonger meeting one of his own fraternity, whose poney might be considered as a sort of equine living skeleton, remonstrated with the owner for " blowing out the hanimal's hide," as he elegantly termed it, and asked him

if he never fed him. "Never feed him; my eyes, but that's a good 'un," was the reply; "why he's got a bushell and a half o' oats at home now, only he'arnt got no time to eat them,"

CANDID BUT NOT CONVINCING.

During the Queen's trial, the late Lord Harris meeting Townsend, inquired of him what processions were going to Brandenburgh House that day-as it was understood many thousands of the different trades were expected. "Where,' asked Townsend," did your lordship get the information?" Lord H. stated he had heard it at dinner at Lord Sydney's the previous day. "Ah," said Townsend, "there is no foundation for the report; but Lord Sydney told you, you will tell other Peers, and the report will be soon current. Your lordships should remain silent; but from my experience, many of your lordships have no more brains than other people."

TOWNSEND AND THE DUKE OF YORK.

The following anccdote, illustrative of the free and easy manners of this well known legal character, may be depended upon. The late Duke of York meeting him one morning on the parade in St. James's Park, good humouredly inquired if there was any news. "Nothing particular,' said Townsend, "except a little scandal about your Royal Highness." ""What is that?" inquired the Duke. "Why," said the veteran, seizing his interrogator by the button"They do say that you have been losing pretty heavily at Brooke's lately." "Well, Townsend, I don't mind what they say." "That's right, that's right. Your Royal Highness would be a d-d fool if you did."

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

The notices of the King's Theatre, Haymarket, and Strand Theatres, will appear in the next number.

ERRATUM. In the Advertisement of the Crivalli Lozenges in our penultimate number, for bottles, read boxes

SPAIN. By M. TRUEBA. 3 vols. 18s. From the time of Roderick to the Seventeeth Century. These Works illustrate the Romantic Annals of every Age, and comprise also a short History of each Country.

Opinions of the Public Journals.

The plan of this work is novel, and of a very interesting description. It is the realization of that which has been often said, and often felt,-that the annals with which the history of every country are thickly strewn, are in themselves far more romantic than the happiest inventions of the most ingenious novelists and poets. They are valuable illustrations of manners.'-Times.

· The Publisher will find the policy of having reduced_this beautiful and uniform edition to six shillings a volume. Such works are a sort of composition between true history and pure poetry; the skeleton, so to speak, belongs to the historian; but the flesh and blood, and the breath of life, pertain to the romancer. We have often regretted that historians (such as Hume, for instance,) should have thought it necessary to plunder their narratives of all that was romantic and episodical, and, for the deeds and thoughts and words of man, treat us to philosophical disquisitions and chapters of ingenious conjectures. Athenæum.

'History, considered narrowly in its details, has passages of deep and most stirring interest. The noblest deeds which fancy ascribes to her heroes, have been performed by real personages; and the fairest beings with which she peoples ber Paradise, have had their prototypes in the world. The history of every country has records of the acts of the one, of the love and beauty of the other; and the pages which are thus devoted to memorialize their fortunes, have in themselves the true elements of romance.'-Monthly Review.

Published by Edward Bull, 26, Holles Street, London. Sold also by the principal Booksellers in England; Messrs. Bell and Bradfute, agents for Scotland; and Mr. Cumming, agent for Ireland.

London: Published every Saturday Morning, for the Proprietors, by G. Cowie, 312, Strand, where Advertisements are received, and all Communications for the Editor (post paid) are to be addressed; and sold also by W. Strange, 21, Paternoster Row; G. Purkess, Wardour Street, Soho; G. Berger, 42,Holywell Street, Strand; and all Booksellers and Newsmen. Cowie, Printer, Belle Sauvage Yard, Ludgate Hill.

No. 21.

THE COACHMAN'S STORY.

"Pretty cattle these, Sir, as man need to drive; though I say it that shouldn't! Now that 'ere off leader, she was to have run for the Darby three year ago; only she fell lame a bit a week afore-hand-and then my master, as was thenold Goitt, Sir, him that kept the Oak Inn, at S-, he was an old crony of Lord E.'s head groom, Sir-thorough Yorkshire, old Goitt; let him alone for seeing into a millstone!-so between 'em, you see, Spanker got a sort of a bad character somehow, you understand (with a knowing wink) and so thankee, Sir; them Havannahs seem of the right sort-a cigar now's a comfortable thing, just as the evening begins to get cool, and the doo's a falling-beg pardon, Sir, she's not well alight, I fear-allow me-ay, that's the ticket -now she'll blaze away like fire and tow."

Thus spake the worthy dragsman of the Tally-ho, as, seated beside me on his coach-box, he drove along at a fast, but steady and by no means violent rate, along the dismal plain upon which we were now entering. It was, indeed, a dreary expanse; not a living thing was to be seen; and a pleasant contrast I found it, to turn from the dead and chill Loneliness of the scene around, to the group of living objects, of which I formed a unit.

There was the hale form of the guard, sedulously engaged in playing the amiable to his fellow-passengers behind, and whose complacent look, and the respectful attention of an elderly dame and her grandson, told more clearly than words, that he was already in the midst of some adventure of which himself was the hero. Then again, close behind me on the roof, sat, in earnest chat, two hearty blades-Lincolnshire graziers, I suspect-whose talk was of each and every breed of sheep that ever cropped the pasture since sheep were in being; while, on the other side, behind my brother of the box, a young Cantab was endeavouring to draw out the conversational powers of a rather pretty and very shy country lass, whom he had effectually mystified by a most gravely detailed account of the wonderful operation of cigars upon

Price 3d.

the human hair. This, he assured her, he was entirely igno rant of himself, until the preceding summer, which he had spent at Vienna, where, having been much struck with the long rich tresses of the Austrian damsels, he was informned that the cause lay altogether in the universal habit of smoking; which observation he had himself shortly an opportunity of verifying, in the conduct of the august empress and her royal daughters, whom he had beheld daily, for two months together, parading before the imperial palace, with "the fragrant weed" between their lips! As he concluded this assurance, with the most profound seriousness of tone and look, this son of Granta tendered the bewildered damsel a cigar, with a polite bow; she, however, declined it.

Fully an hour had now elapsed since we first entered the moor, but there was no appearance of change. My friend, the coachman, too, had of late been more silent than usual, as if the dullness of the place had infected even him. At last, however, he suddenly jogged me with his elbow, pointing, at the same time, to a distant spot, which he wished me to observe. "D'ye see, Sir, yon hillock to the left-straight out where my whip's a pointing?" "Yes," said I, though I no more saw it than the dome of St. Paul's. Well, Sir, my father had a curious bit of an adventure there, forty-ay, let's see-forty-eight year ago, come October." Indeed!! said I: "what might it have been?" "Why, for the matter of that, it was an awful kind of a thing, and made a deal of noise at the time; but if you'd like to hear it, I'd give as good a history of it as I could, though I'm no great hand at a norration." Of course I assented, and he began :

66

"You see, my father was fond, as most young chaps are, of getting a bit of sport in the autumn nights; and, as he'd got no grounds of his own, he was obligated for to make free of his neighbours'. Well, behind that hillock that I pointed out, about a couple of mile on the other side, is Lord A.'s preserves. They lie a matter of twenty mile from T, where my father lived; but that was his favorite point, and there-ay, many's the t me-he's been there the whole blessed night, in spite of hs lordship's keepers.

"One night-I don't profess to remember just the par

ticlars of the case-but he'd bagged a leash of as fine cockpheasants as any man need set eyes on. Well, somehow or other, he managed to get clear of the preserves, and to come upon a sort of queer place, half house, half burn, as stood just behind that hillock. It was a keenish night, and there was a bright fire blazing inside; and when my father just looked quietly in at the window, who should he see sitting there, but a girl that used to live at T-, and that he once had looked sweet upon, himself, only she didn't turn out just what she ought, so he'd cut the connexion. Now he had been very fond of the girl, and seeing her sitting alone, quite desolate and unhappy, his heart warmed to her in a manner, -besides, he was cold, and the fire looked comfortable-so he knocked at the door with the butt-end of his gun. When she opened it and saw him, she was like to have dropped down with surprise; but before she could say yea or nay, he had walked in, and was warming his fingers at the fire. When the girl recovered herself-for she was quite stupified at first she began to let my father know that it was best for him to start of as soon as possible, for those was expected as wouldn't make him welcome by no means. But as she didn't exactly speak out, my father, who was a plain man, and never understood hints, didn't quite take; but thought she only meant that her husband or her sweetheart, or what not, might be coming; so he said it was all nonsense, and told her never to fear; and meantime he took up a flask of brandy that stood on the table, and after drink. ing her health, took a good long pull at it.

Well, Sir, just as he'd finished his sup-Oh God!' says the girl; here they are!' and my father then looked out of the window, and saw a lanthorn in the distance, coming towards the house.

"Now, on one side of the hovel there was a great heap of fagg its for fire-wood, and a truss or two of straw. So the girl, she takes him by the arm, and just gives him to understand that the fellows that was coming would no more mind sticking of him, than he would a pig, and that his only chance was for her to hide him under the faggots and straw; and with that he hauls down half-a-dozen of 'em as quick as thought, and jumped in, while she lifted them up a-top of him, and scattered as much straw as she could manage-for she was a strapping wench.

"Well, he was scarcely stowed away there, along with his birds and his gun, when there was a scratching heard at the door, and in ran a great brute of a buil-dog-thorough brel, with a nose like a bull, and a tail like a rat-and be comes saiff, sniff, up to the faggots. O Lord!' thinks my father, now I'm a gone man, sure enough!' but he lay as still as death. Close upon the dog's heels, followed three men, holding another between 'em, with his mouth gagged, and his hands and feet tied, but struggling to get loose, like a two-year old. There was a little crevice between the fag. gats, just enough for my father to get a peep, and he knew the man that was bound, directly, to be Mr. F., the rich banker of T-. fle knew, too, the face of one of the others, us had formerly been a field preacher, but always bore an indifferent carritur, and had been ordered a flogging at the cart's tail, for some offence or other, by this very Mr. F. Well, the villains, they held a consultation, like, for some time, about what was to be done. It would never do, says they, to let poor F. go, because he had recognised the Methody, and had foolishly called out his name; but the question was, what to do with his body when they had murdered him!

The giri, all this time, poor cretur! she behaved with gr at spirit, and protested with might and main against hurtg of Mr. F. At list they gave her pretty clearly to under

stand, that if she didn't keep quiet, they'd serve her worse than him; so she was forced to be silent. Then the Methody -surely the devil must have possessed him-he said his conscience was clean against blood-shedding, because Scripture forbade it; but if they'd only hang him up by the heels, he'd be as dead as a door-nail in a quarter of an hour, and then they might leave him on the high road, and people would believe it was apoplexy.-Think what my father must have suffered while all this was going on!

"The villains then carried their wretched victim to an out-house, as stood just by the door of the hovel; but my dad, he daredn't stir, because of the inferual dog, that still kept sniff, sniffing at the faggot. While they were gone, howsomever, the girl contrived to say, in a low toneLie still, for the love of heaven, and leave it all to me; for both our lives depend on it.' After this, she cut up some meat, mixing it up with oatmeal in great quantities, and gave the dog his supper; and that made him more easy, and he laid down to sleep a ore the fire.'

"But two of the men carried the corpse back into the high road, and the third remained behind, in the room where my father was. When they came back, they all sat down to supper, and eat and drank as my father said he never see men do afore or since. When, at last, the braudy got into their heads, they growed obstropolous, and told stories, and quarrelled and blasphemed like so many devils in hell; and the Methody, he got sanctified as the drink got the mastery on him, and insisted on bellowing out a hymn at the top of his voice.

"Well, to make a long story short, by about three o'clock in the morning, they laid themselves down on a truss of straw, close by the faggots, and were soon dead asleep. The girl, who had managed to keep out of the way most of the time, came quietly in and fed the dog again, stuffing of him so full that he was altogether gorged, and couldn't have stirred no-how to save his life. When every thing was still, the girl she helped my father to creep out, removing the faggots with the greatest possible care; but she herself remained behind, you see, for fear they should wake and miss her afore they were well escaped. My father, he ran as if old Nick was at his heels, to the nearest park lodge, and called up the keeper. They then proceeded to summon Lord A.; the tale was told, and a party raised; and the wretches was secured afore they were well awake, and conveyed to the jail at T. The body of poor Mr. F., howsomever, was there afore them; for his horse had returned without him, and that had given the alarm: and the postillion of a return post-chaise bad found the corpse, and brought it on to T-.

"The three villains was all clearly convicted on the evdence of the girl and my father. To give the devil his due. it seemed that this here was the first murder they had committed, though guilty of every crime short of that. The girl, she had lived some time with the least hardened of the three, and she had thought of making her escape; for though bad enough, she was far from being so cruel bad as them,— and they treated her shamefully, too. My father's happening to come, gave the turn to the balance, like; for had be been discovered, both would have certainly lost their lives.

"The three was hung in chains near the spot where the murder was committed. I have heard my father say, that if his gun had been within his grasp, though loaded with nothing but small shot, he thinks he could not have helped firing it, when they first spoke of murdering poor F., for he felt so enraged at the minute, that he seemed to lose all fear. But Providence willed it otherwise; so one life was lost instead of two." "Upon my word, you have told me a thrilling tale-it will

be long ere I forget it," was my comment on my friend the coachman's story. Ay, Sir, it is," was the reply; "but here we are, at the Black Bear at T-, and I can't say I'm sorry either, for the night is uncommon cold, to be sure.Waiter, bring me a glass of brandy and water, half-and-half, piping hot, and no sugar,-and, d'ye hear? the gentleman will pay for it." S. S.

VERY ORIGINAL SONNETS.

No. 14.

THE LEVIATHAN.

Slow roll'd the waters, by a ripple curl'd,
Soft as the smile of infants when they sleep;
The sun was at its height-the pennants furl'd,
Clung to the mast-a stillness, passing deep,
Reigned thro' all nature: suddenly, I heard
A hissing, hideous noise, and straight beheld
A monster vomitting black smoke, propell'd
By mighty fins, which nimbly it bestirr'd-
And I bethought me of Pontoppidan,

And of the Kraken he described, of old;
Of the Sea Serpent, wrapped in many a fold ;
Of the deep's wonder, huge Leviathan.
But active Fancy ofttimes makes odd slips—
'Twas but the Margate Steam-boat-the Eclipse!

THE VISIONARY;

A TALE OF DELUSION.

(Concluded from page 310)

T.

Meanwhile, IIenry made his way to the mountains.That his senses were tcuched by supernatural enthusiasm, was indubitable; but many good feelings were yet left uncorrupted, and ere he had gained the summit of one of those beautiful hills, which stretch themselves in lofty ridges over the face of Switzerland, he paused a moment to gaze in profound reflection upon the deep and lovely serenity before him, presenting, as it did, a strong contrast to the tumult and anarchy which were jarring in his bosom, rolling like the breakers of a mighty sea in wrath and anger together. For a few moments, he forgot the wildness of the mystic mania which held his senses in thraldom, in the beauty of the boundless prospect, which, as he had now attained the hill top, burst upon his wandering vision. Mountain and woodland solitude-lake and mere-rock and crag-lay glittering under the glorifying brightness of a full moon. The scene was still and impressive; so still, that his very breathing sounded like an interruption. The sleeping waters of the lake reflected thousands of little worlds glimmering in the deep azure above-all pursuing their harmonious course in the regularity of invisible motion. In the singular and meditative mood he was now in, such a night as this was calculated to promote a devotional feeling, ill adapted, by its respect for the Supreme, to tutor his heart into an insensibility of sin and error his brain-wandering enthusiasm gave way for a moment to natural emotion, and he wept bitterly. ""Twere better," said he, covering his eyes, that nature had sent forth all her angry elements

to darken my soul to her beauty and bounty; the errors of · my searching mind had then looked less terrible, since the night and they had been of the same hue; horrors would have assorted well with my intentions; but such mildness---such gentleness-such beauty as this, make me feel gratitude and remorse."

Thus saying, he fled down the hill towards the lake, nor halted once, until, reaching a small rivulet that wandered away among the valleys, he threw himself on its bank; and the romantic tradition of the Swiss villagers gives the following account of

THE VISION.

The first glance into futurity presented the form of hinself, as a gay young cadet, on the bosom of the broad Alantic. The animation of hope-the bucyancy of fluttering expectation-the spring of ambition, were all within him': he had no care-no reflection: he sang with the merry, laughed with the loudest, and was wafted to India by summer gales of joy, delight, and hope. Arrived at his place of destination, a short time found him engaged in the career of arms, with every bright prospect of success in the perspective; the great respected and patronized him; he insinuated himself into the favor of the noblest, was promoted, and finally obtained an office of great importance, with a title of exalted rank. His horoscope brightened as his years increased; and Fortune, determining to bless b m with the possession of every thing conducing to human felicity, threw him in the way of a young lady of high connexions, whom he married, and whose friends still further promoted the success of every project he engaged in. In a few years he amassed a considerable fortune, and, resolving to return to his native country, embarked the whole of his property, money and jewels, on board a large vessel. and with his wife, a lovely daughter, now seventeen, and two younger sons, set sail for England.

The early part of their voyage was pleasant and prosperous. The prospect of seeing once more his country and friends-of again visiting the home of his father, which returned to his memory with all the pleasures of a second youth-afforded him so many delightful sensations, that of all on board he was the gayest and happiest. But the evil eye of his malicious destiny sought him out at last. Hitherto, his life had been one series of unvarying content and peace. Public honor, domestic joy, popularity, and reputation, waited on his steps, and perfect happiness was within his grasp, when unkind fate discovered and pursued him leaving him, at the first blow, a widower.Overwhelmed with grief, for he had never been familiar enough with sorrow to know fortitude, he was about to throw himself into the sea, forgetful of every tie but the one just broken; but, being prevented by those on board, he fell into a stupor, which lasted several days. With returning reason, he asked for his children; a whisper ran through the cabin-but two appeared-one had fallen overboard and was drowned: his mind, already in a state of th deepest distress, was not susceptible of any great increase of misery. Time, which smooths the pillow of grief, restored him at last to some degree of resignation; and ever buoyant hope-like the fragile balloon inflated with air. too light for the surrounding dullness-began to open fresh scenes of joy to his imagination: his remaining children occupied his attention, and he fondly trusted to see then more happy than himself. But vain, alas! are the thoughts of man. Misfortune, like a terrible storm which never stills till every plank of the fated vessel is torn asunder, ha not yet loosed her hold of him. Prognostications of a approaching tempest made their appearance; the clouds,

propelled by angry winds, assumed fantastic and distorted shapes; the mariners, who never lack superstition enough to make an impending evil more terrible, maintained they saw a spirit riding round the ship on the back of a dolphin. Evening had scarcely closed when the rain commenced failing in torrents-lightnings, in quick and vivid flashes, gleamed over the arch of heaven-mountains of clouds, piled one upon the other in heaps of darkness, opened into frightful chasms to let the roaring thunder forth, which ran in tremendous growls along the convulsed face of the waters-billow upon billow, now rearing their crests of whitened surge, bore like a cork the vessel on their tops; then, dashing it into the abyss of foam beneath, left it in the gulf of waters, until the next huge breaker rolled it on its broad chest again. The ship was staunch, and would probably have successfully combatted the storm, had they not unfortunately been near a dangerous reef of rocks, communicating with a projecting headland and bay. The pilot had scarcely made this known to the captain, when she struck with a frightful crash, and the sea poured in on every side. Mr. Calvert, who had been previously endeavouring to instil a consolation into the minds of his children which his heart knew not, was now aroused to a sense of their imminent danger. Perceiving the ship would not hold together many minutes longer, he courageously leapt into the waves with a child under each arm, and, being an excellent swimmer, reached the land in safety. They had scarcely gained a footing on the shore, when a universal shriek from the ill-fated bark proclaimed the work of destruction over. The ocean had swallowed up the vessel, and every soul on board.

To a night of horror succeeded a day of despair. Mr. Calvert found himself upon a foreign coast, without the power of communicating with his relations or making hi wants known. From the pinnacle of bliss, he had been suddenly dashed into the pit of misery. The poor inhabitants of the village to which he had wandered understood not his language, nor he theirs. He and his children strayed about the whole day, without money-without food-without pity-and the evening found them huddled together upon a tomb-stone in the church-yard of the place; the children sobbing in silence-the father, worn down by fatigue, sorrow, and hunger, asleep on the tomb. The moon had scarcely begun to illuminate the night with her beauty, as if in mockery of their distress, when a young gentlemanbetter drest, and seemingly more respectable than any they had seen during the day-approached the place where they -lay. Struck with astonishment at the unwonted sight, he questioned Miss Calvert, in French, as to the cause of their situation; and having heard her tale, he took her brother and herself to a shop in the neighbourhood, and purchased some food, which they hastily devoured-then, desiring the boy to return to his father, whom he had left asleep, he decoyed Miss Calvert away with him, upon the specious pretence of preparing a temporary home for them all, promising to send her back again immediately to the ehurch-yard, to conduct her father and brother to his house. The lad returned to his parent, whom he endeavoured ineffectually to arouse; and then, laying himself by his side, fell also into a deep slumber.

Mr. Calvert awoke with the dawn. On looking round, he missed his daughter: hastily snatching up the sleeping boy, he asked, in accents of terror, where his sister was. The poor child could give but a very imperfect account of the affair: all the father could learn was, that a young cavalier had taken her away with him on the preceding night. His cup of misery was now swallowed to the dregs-the

last sands of existence had run through the glass of his destiny. Wild, agonized, and unknowing what he did, bo aeized his son, and, rushing into the fields, first threw him over a frightful precipice, and, the moment after, precipitated himself upon the mangled and torn body of his dead child!

These occurrences were the substance of the vision, which the unfortunate Henry Calvert imagined he saw darkening his fate. The morning sun was shining brightly as he arose-dizzy, wild, and stupified. Habit directed his step towards the Laboratory. As he approached, he saw thick clouds of smoke issuing from it; and on nearing the spot, discovered it to be a heap of burning ruins. His father (poor old man!), with his servants, were impatiently digging through the rubbish, interrupted by the wild sobs and exclamations of his mother, who feared that he had fallen a victim to the effects of some chemical experiment, which had levelled the building with the ground. Henry stood for a few moments almost bewildered; then, fixing his expressionless eye on the scene before him, watched unperceived the operations of the diggers. A considerable part of the surrounding mass was shortly removed;-one of the men had just cleared the projecting end of a large beam which had formed part of the roof, when he exclaimed,— "Here it is." All eyes were turned to the spot; a scorched arm obtruded itself from the mass-the surrounding embers were quickly cleared-and the dead body of some unfortunate being was exposed to view, burnt and horribly disfigured. The parents, believing it to be the corpse of their son, uttered a fearful shriek, and were conducted in a state of insensibility to the house. Meanwhile Henry, aroused from his lethargy, slowly approached the remains of the sufferer; and, kneeling down, commenced inspecting them. The servants, overjoyed to see their young master alive, ran, with one accord, to the disconsolate parents to communicate the glad intelligence, leaving the old steward an only spectator of his proceedings. Henry lifted the arm-then suddenly letting it fall again-gazed in fearful wildness at a ring, still visible on one of the fingers, Striking his forehead violently, he ejaculated, "What have I done?"-Reason

was

now fast resuming her empire. With fearful forebodings, he recommenced the examination; and, fast clenched in the other hand, he discovered the identical chain and key he had given to Clari.

Conviction now flashed all the horrors of the truth upon his agonizing brain. The blackened corse before him was, indeed, his unfortunate sister, who, notwithstanding her brother's injunction, had unlocked the secret drawer in which he had hid the pretended talisman. "Is this," said she, taking it from its concealment, "the mighty engine Fate has given to Henry to work such important results with? I wonder what he will do after I have burnt it?" Then, lighting the paper at the candle, which she held in her hand, she threw it blazing on the ground; in an instant it communicated fire to some inflammable substances strewed on the floor, and an explosion took place, leaving the laboratory a heap of ruins, and the beautiful girl a lifeless victim to her fatal curiosity!

Like a daring hunter, lost to the warnings of reason, who leaves the safe and open plain to penetrate the deep and treacherous jungle, nor dreams of danger till he finds himself beneath the crushing tiger's spring,-the miserable Henry stood contemplating the destruction he had occasioned. The folly of his wild theories and still wilder pursuits, now burst upon his returning senses; and, lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, he murmured a prayer for mercy.